


Can't Fight the Moonlight

by spinner33



Series: CM - AU [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: AU werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Werewolf AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Fight the Moonlight

_You can try to resist, try to hide from my kiss_

_But you know, but you know that you can’t fight the moonlight— LeAnn Rimes_

Hotch had been creeping through the alleys, heart pounding in his chest, his heavy breathing casting wraiths of white around him in the air. He sidestepped rotting trash and puddles of human waste and debris, scratching his shoulders against hard bricks. He had his Glock in hand, and he was ready for whatever might come at him out of the eerie darkness which was cut only by the light of the full moon above.

What the hell was Spencer Reid doing prowling around down here in this area at night? Was he trying to get himself hurt? Was he using Dilaudid again? Hotch’s heart raced with fear and horror and fury. He had followed Reid here, curious why he would leave their bed, leave the house, at such an odd hour on such a dark night.

Aaron put his back to the wall, and a movement to his blind side surprised him. He was shoved bodily upwards and held aloft by the wild-haired, red-eyed stranger who had managed to get the drop on him. There was something familiar about the stranger’s presence. His powerful hand was pressed to Hotch’s Adam’s apple, and long fingers with deadly claws were wrapped around Aaron’s throat. Flashbacks of Foyet and the deadly silver blade he had used to play inside Aaron washed through Hotch’s mind.

Aaron closed his eyes and gave a deep, fearful moan. He dropped his gun and pulled on the hand that held him immobile.

“Aaron?” the stranger questioned. Hotch’s eyes shot open. That’s when recognition hit him. The fur-covered creature’s face wavered with emotion. It took a deep breath and lowered Hotch gently to the ground. It bared sharp fangs as it expelled a sigh of impatience. “Why did you follow me?” it asked in a familiar timbre.

Hotch fell into those red eyes as he struggled for an answer, his mind spinning out of control with anxious and hysterical questions.

Spencer Reid?!

Hotch jerked awake with a muffled yelp. Concerned brown eyes stared down at him from above. He was lying in bed at home. A gentle face full of love and concern was there above him. A familiar body was next to him. Reid brushed his nose tenderly to Hotch’s nose.

“Bad dream?” Reid questioned, nosing his ear, caressing his face. “Let me make it all better. Let me make you forget,” he soothed, moving over Hotch on all-fours, making soft puppy-like whimpers.

Spencer slowly pushed Aaron’s tee-shirt up his chest, nuzzling skin and hair and scars and all as he moved downward, tracing his bewitching tongue everywhere. Hotch moaned, letting the dream dissipate from his mind, at least until he felt tiny bites on his hip. Hotch arched his hips upward, and Reid slid Aaron’s sweatpants down his hips, his thighs, past his knees, pushing them off the bed.

Aaron closed his eyes and let Spencer between his knees, concentrating only on the feeling of that wonderful mouth and those skillful hands as long fingers wrapped around his growing erection and stroked him to full hardness. Spencer lapped at the head of his cock. Reid was whispering words of encouragement to him, and the tenderness in his touch made Hotch feel so stupid about his dream. Spencer Reid – a werewolf? Honestly. What had his fevered brain been thinking? Where the hell had that come from? If there was ever a man least likely to be a fur-bound, danger to human society, it was the man between his legs, sucking him off with such innocent sweetness.

Was it so weird that no matter how often Reid trimmed his nails, they always seemed to grow out of control?

Was it so weird that he had such wild hair that it took hours some mornings to tame?

Was it so weird that, as Hotch pushed his brain to keep thinking, he could not remember a single time when he and Reid had been together on the night of a full moon?

Was it so weird that in spite of the fact he was anything but an alpha male, Reid was able to hold his own against both Hotch and Morgan when he needed to? There had always been an underlying strength about Reid that shone through his gentle exterior, his meek demeanor. It was a steel more powerful than any Hotch had ever encountered.

The tease of tongue and the pressure of long fingers sliding up inside of him chased away whatever thoughts Hotch might have been forming next. He groaned out, hands searching under the covers for a shoulder to stroke, hips rocking, waves of pleasure rushing his veins. Moonlight washed over the bed and glowed over Hotch’s naked skin. He could almost feel the magic in the silvery beams.

Reid crooked his fingers, and Hotch cried out. Spencer teased, tickled, sucked and stroked him. Hotch stretched out his legs, completely powerless beneath his skillful lover. The blankets slid further towards the side of the bed, and billowed away from Reid’s head and shoulders as he bobbed and moved. Lost in his task, concentrating intensely, Reid wasn’t aware of the moonlight glowing over his face and features.

Hotch cried out again, not in pleasure but in fear. He was pinned under Reid’s suddenly-heavy frame, and he couldn’t move. He closed his eyes in dread as three-inch fangs and a prehensile tongue teased along his exposed shaft. Reid was growling and panting with pleasure, so happy just pleasing Hotch. He opened red eyes and wondered what had frightened his beloved mate.

Hotch threw his head back, intent on a scream for help, only to hear himself calling out Reid’s name. The werewolf in his lap smiled lovingly up at him and continued to lick and suck him, continue to tease wicked fingers inside him, drawing another groan of agony and ecstasy in one from Hotch.

They had been together for such a long time, Hotch’s cock was reasoning with him, worried he might jerk away at exactly the wrong time and wound himself on those exposed fangs. If his wolf- lover hadn’t hurt him yet, more than likely he wasn't ever going to hurt him. Now. Hold. Still.

Hotch heard himself begging, “Please don’t stop!” Reid was more than happy to obey the request. “Watch the fangs,” Aaron added anxiously. Reid chuckled deeply.

***

Hotch woke up late, naked and exhausted. He felt like he had tossed and turned all night. Reid wasn’t in their bed. The covers were strewn on the floor. Books were stacked haphazardly on Reid’s bedside table. Aaron could smell bacon cooking downstairs. His stomach gurgled hungrily. He could hear Jack laughing at something Spencer was saying.

Hotch pulled on his tee-shirt, wincing as he rocked over the edge of the bed. Oh fuck, those magic fingers were haunting him this morning. He searched under the covers for his sweatpants and pulled them on. He was scratching his stomach as he padded barefoot down the stairs and wandered into the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Jack shouted happily. Hotch fluffed his son’s brown-blond hair and kissed his crown.

Reid was in front of the stove, flipping pancakes for Jack and tending to thin crepes in the other skillet. Jack pushed a plate to Hotch, and got up to get him a fork and a knife. In between scooping up a fresh pancake for Jack and turning a perfect crepe, Reid dotted a kiss to Hotch’s wild hair and slipped him a mug of coffee.

“Back in a second,” Hotch murmured, disappearing from the table again. Jack and Reid gave each other puzzled looks, and Reid shrugged forgivingly. He refilled Jack’s glass of milk and bent down to talk to him.

“Bad dreams.”

“Daddy has bad dreams too?” Jack was surprised. 

“Everyone does,” Reid explained.

“Oh,” the boy replied, shoveling bites of food into his mouth. That revelation seemed to ease the child’s mind somehow.

Hotch returned with a laptop in hand, tapping keys.

“No machines at the breakfast table,” Reid chided, piling Hotch’s plate with filled crepes and slices of bacon.

“Not at the table yet,” Hotch defended. He turned the screen around at Reid. Spencer flipped a final pancake onto Jack’s plate and wondered why Aaron was showing him pictures of the phases of the moon.

“Oh, yes, there was a lunar eclipse last night in the Southern Hemisphere. Unfortunately not visible from North America, but I’ve heard the views from Rio were breathtaking,” Reid babbled. “Full lunar eclipse – one of the more spectacular astronomical displays – and it hardly gets a mention in the news nowadays. In medieval times….”

“More bacon?” Jack asked Hotch, who was melting back from Reid. Was he disappointed? Relieved? Spencer couldn’t tell which. Reid turned off the burners, set the skillets aside on a cool space, and joined them at the table. As they ate, Jack was burbling happy syllables about how he wanted to build a spaceship and visit the moon someday. Hotch watched Reid warily. Reid returned the favor, but his look was tinged with amusement and curiosity.

Jack finished first and was excused. He went racing away, grabbing at Hotch’s shoulders for a hug before disappearing from the kitchen. Reid and Hotch continued to eat, both missing the distraction of Jack’s happy voice.

“So….Reid….baby…..hypothetically speaking…..you’d tell me if you had any deep dark secrets, wouldn’t you?” Aaron tested. Reid was crunching bites of bacon and pushing the last bite of crepes around his plate with his fork.

“I suppose that would depend on the deep, dark secret, and how I thought you might react to said-hypothetic deep, dark secret,” Spencer answered, cleaning off his plate and picking up his glass of milk. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever you were dreaming?”

“Um, no,” Hotch blushed hot, avoiding those intense eyes.

“Mm hm. Okay,” Reid smiled, cleaning off his mouth and chin with his napkin. His eyes were twinkling merrily.

“You’ll laugh.”

“No, I will not laugh,” Spencer promised.

“But you….you’d tell me… wouldn’t you? If you had any deep, dark secrets?” Aaron tested, raising his eyes again.

“Like if I was a werewolf?” Reid grinned brightly. Hotch gulped but kept his eyes firmly locked with Spencer’s. Amusement spread Reid’s grin back on both sides of his face. “Yes, Hotch, I would tell you if I was a werewolf.”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” Aaron blushed.

“I’m not laughing,” Reid squirmed, biting back his smile. 

“Sure you aren’t.”

“I might be tempted to sneak up on you with a mask soon though.”

“You can be such a dick,” Hotch laughed. Reid got up to put his plate in the dishwasher. He paused by Aaron’s seat and kissed him on top of the head.

“Hotch, have you ever taken a good look at me naked?” 

“Now and again.”

“I have less hair on my body than you have on one arm. Seriously. If anyone here should be nervous about the full moon, it's me,” Reid chided, placing his left arm on the table next to Hotch’s left arm, giving him a chance to compare them side by side.

Hotch finished his crepes and stood up. He put an arm around Reid’s slender waist and dropped a kiss behind his ear.

“I’m an idiot,” he sighed.

“We could take a long walk in the moonlight tonight, if it would ease your mind,” Reid promised. 

“You’d do that for me?”

“Yes,” Reid smiled.

“Awww,” Hotch sobbed, burying his nose against bare skin.

“Last time I let you watch monster movies before bed,” Spencer added, shaking his head in dismay. Aaron squeezed him tight, playfully sinking teeth into the nape of his neck.


End file.
